


the stubborn grace of being loved, regardless

by Chrome



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: (or at least pseudo-regency romance), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Demisexual Essek Thelyss, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Kryn Culture and Customs, Kryn Dynasty (Critical Role), Marriage Proposal, Marriage of Convenience, Political Alliances, Regency Romance, Slow Burn, Wedding Planning, Weddings, den politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29778987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrome/pseuds/Chrome
Summary: “Yes,” she said. She leaned across the coffee table and grabbed both his hands. “This is how you say it in Common: Do you want to marry me, Essek Thelyss?”“Jester Lavorre,” Essek said. “I would be a fool to say no.”---Nothing Essek Thelyss does is safe. In the grand scheme of his life, marrying Jester Lavorre would be relatively low on the list of calculated risks, if it did not put the entire Mighty Nein in the category of things he might lose--and if he had any real idea what he might gain.
Relationships: Essek Thelyss & Verin Thelyss, Jester Lavorre & Verin Thelyss, Jester Lavorre/Essek Thelyss, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, The Mighty Nein & Essek Thelyss
Comments: 41
Kudos: 41





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's brain worms all the way down, folks. I lovingly blame the Haven Discord for feeding the worms.
> 
> Much love to my talented beta readers [ladyofrosefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire) and [capitola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitola). Any lingering mistakes are mine. Title is from [Bowerbird](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-fMk1MjvBc) which is a very Jessek song.

“Essek, it’s me!” Jester chirped. She leaned against the doorframe, staring out into the dusk. It was actual-dusk according to Caleb’s account, but you wouldn’t have known it merely by looking out of the perpetual twilight. Rosohna was beautiful, in a haunted fairy-tale sort of way. Jester never felt one-hundred percent awake. “Do you want to come over for dinner? Caduceus is cooking! It will be great! We missed you.” She was pretty sure she had a few words left, so she hummed a few bars of a waltz she’d heard at a tavern in Zadash.

“Ah, welcome back,” she heard Essek’s voice, the soft edges of his accent catching oddly. “Thank you for the invitation. I am afraid I am currently occupied.”

She waited, but he didn’t say anything more. She scowled out into the darkness, kicking her heel back against the door. The door chimes jangled.

“What’s up?” Beau stuck her head out.

“Essek’s  _ currently occupied _ ,” Jester scowled.

“Well, dude’s got a job,” Beau said.

“Yeah, but it’s  _ dinnertime _ ,” said Jester with the oblivious certainty of someone who had never had a job in their life. “He has to eat  _ sometime. _ ” She considered it. “Beau! I just had the  _ best  _ idea!”

“Oh?” Beau said, with the wariness that Jester had grown accustomed to her ideas receiving.

“I’m gonna bring Essek food!” She flung the door wide, setting the chimes going again. “Caduceus! Can we package up some food for Essek?” she shouted as she launched herself into the kitchen.

Caduceus nodded. “He’s not coming?”

“He’s  _ currently occupied, _ ” Jester said.

“Is that supposed to be Essek’s accent?” Beau asked, Jester’s impression apparently only clicking the second time.

“Yes,” Jester said. “It’s pretty exactly right, huh?”

Caduceus looked bemused, but he did that frequently, so she didn’t take it personally. “Here we go,” Caduceus said. 

He’d filled a dish with rice and added the little golden chunks of bean curd and sprouts on the top. They were all cooked in a golden-reddish sauce that smelled delightfully spicy. He hesitated for a moment over the open top and then found another plate and set it upside-down over the rim of the bowl as a makeshift lid.

“That looks  _ so _ good, Caduceus,” she said. She carried the dish two-handed, one at the bottom and one over the top to hold the plate in place. “I’ll be right back!” 

Jester didn’t have Caleb’s perfect memory, but she had put some effort into remembering where Essek lived, largely for a circumstance exactly like this. She followed the road through their beautiful neighborhood into another, making a left where she remembered the purple-flamed lamp post and the house with the red-painted door. From there, she took another right and knew she’d gone the right way—the spire of Essek’s tallest tower, with the strange revolving spherical contraption mounted at the top, was visible.

From there, it was easy. She walked up the street until she arrived at the gate, reached around to unhook the latch, and let herself in. Someone had filled in the holes where they dug clay out of the yard, but when she looked hard for a moment, she could find where they had been, the fresh dirt like scars upon the earth.

She went up to the door. He had said that he was occupied, which probably meant that he wasn’t even home. Even so, she knocked. No one answered. She went to set the bowl down on the step, but then she thought better of it. It would definitely get cold, and the plate-lid seemed very clever but probably wouldn’t do enough to keep out dirt or spiders or anything like that. And they did eat spiders in Xhorhas, she knew that from Yasha, but probably not the garden kind that might climb into your bean curd and vegetables over rice.

Jester tried the door, but it was locked. She considered leaving the bowl on the step and just telling Essek that it was there—she had more Sending spells available—and then had a better idea.

She had more than one spell, after all.

With that, she pictured the entryway of Essek’s home, calling to mind the dimensions, the placement of the staircase, how much space there was between the front wall and the banister. Confident that she remembered the layout well enough, she cast Dimension Door and ported herself through the door and into the house.

Jester could see just fine in low light, but it was dark in the house, even darker than the exterior, and it took her eyes a minute to adjust. She whispered, “Hello?” and enjoyed the reverberation of her voice in the space. Then she climbed the stairs one level, remembering where the sitting room was.

She had made it up to the spot where the stairs curled around to reach the next level before she heard the voices. She paused and listened. It was a woman’s voice, but Jester couldn’t understand it—the words were in Undercommon. Then another voice responded, and even in the unfamiliar language, she recognized Essek’s cadence.

Well. If he was here, then she’d just give the plate to him directly. It occurred to her that she might have been interrupting something, but, well—she hadn’t really gotten the impression that Essek had any romantic entanglements, and anyway, if he was doing something in essentially the living room, he had to expect something like this.

So she took the last few stairs up and pushed open the door at the top. It was a little brighter inside, but not much—someone had lit a few candles, more performatively than to actually garner light, judging by the dozens of other candles that remained unlit.

All three occupants of the room turned to look at her. One of them was Essek. He was dressed as he usually was, except he was still in his cloak and mantle and floating, which struck Jester as sad somehow. He’d shed it in their home—couldn’t he in his own?

Maybe not with his visitors. They were also drow, and Jester didn’t recognize any of them, which meant that she hadn’t walked in on a meeting with someone in the Bright Queen’s court. That was good—even Jester would have admitted that would be a little rude.

“Hi Essek,” she said. “I know you’re busy, but also, I don’t know if you’d eat without us, and Caduceus’s cooking is really good, so I brought you food.” She held out the bowl.

“Hello, Jester,” Essek said. He extended a hand and caught the bowl in some kind of spell, floating it to the table and setting it down with a barely-audible clink. “Thank you.”

“How did you get in here?” asked one of the other drow. 

Jester hadn’t heard his voice yet, but his Common was good, only slightly more accented than Essek’s. His white hair was worn long, twisted into a braid around the crown of his head and then drawn into a short ponytail. He was taller than Essek and had broader shoulders.

“Well, I remembered how to open the gate,” Jester said, “And then I just kind of jumped through the wall.”

“That speaks ill of your security,” the woman commented, also in Common. 

Jester had the sudden distinct impression that they’d switched to Common for her— _ benefit?  _ No, no benefit—just for the chance of embarrassing Essek.

“My wards are not designed to harm those who I wish to be able to enter,” Essek said cooly. Jester only had a moment to consider the implications of that—that Essek had deliberately made it possible for her to come in?—before Essek continued. “Thank you, Jester. This was kind of you. I can walk you out.”

The woman had quieted at Essek’s response and seemed to be imperiously waiting for the situation to resolve, but the man did not. “Going to feign politeness to get out of this, Essek?”

“I am walking my  _ friend  _ and, incidentally,  _ Hero of the Dynasty _ , to the door,” Essek said, even more coldly. Jester had actually forgotten how icy and aloof he could be—he hadn’t put on that front in front of the Mighty Nein in a long time. “I am happy to resume the subject when I return, but I don’t think I have much else to add. I would be curious to understand why it is such an impossibility for you, though. You had made it quite clear that you considered yourself to be in a serious relationship, weren’t you, Verin?”

“Right,” the man said. “And no one could stand to marry  _ you, _ so it’s all on me, of course.”

Jester saw Essek’s fingers curl, and on the shelf in the back of the room, a metal globe shuddered in place. Their backs to it, neither of the other drow reacted, but Jester realized with some delight that Essek was contemplating hurling it at him.

Then the words registered, and the indignation flooded upwards. “Lots of people would want to marry Essek!”

The drow man’s eyebrows flew upwards. “That’s news to me.”

“Well—“ Jester floundered in unexpected rage for a moment before she found her words. “Obviously, you don’t know very much, then, do you? Because lots of people would want to marry Essek. He’s super smart and very handsome and also just like, so cool.”

His mouth opened and shut before he rallied. “ _ Who _ are you?”

Essek cut in. “This is Jester Lavorre, a member of the Mighty Nein, the heroes responsible for the return of the Beacons to the Dynasty and the end of the war, and no small other number of accomplishments besides. Jester, may I have the pleasure of introducing to you the Umavi Deirta Thelyss, head of Den Thelyss and my mother, and the misfortune of introducing you to my brother, Taskhand Verin Thelyss.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Jester,” Verin said. “I’m sorry that your introduction to Den Thelyss has been my brother.”

“Essek’s  _ great _ ,” Jester said, at the same moment that Essek said, “I’m sorry she had to meet you at all.”

The Umavi Deirta Thelyss—Essek’s  _ mother _ —intervened. “You are embarrassing yourselves. We will discuss this further when Essek returns.”

“Anyway,” Jester said, not moving, “I don’t see why it’s a problem. If Essek doesn’t want to get married, he doesn’t have to get married.”

“Unfortunately,” Deirta said, “We rarely get what we want in life.” She wasn’t looking at Jester. “You will  _ both  _ think carefully about how you would like to resolve this situation, or I will be forced to intervene. For the good of the Den.”

“You mean you’ll find someone for me to marry because no one in their right mind would agree to centuries of that,” Verin snapped with a gesture in Essek’s direction. “No. Not this time. I won’t cooperate.”

There was a flicker of something across Deirta’s face, and Jester hesitantly would have called it  _ rage _ . Then she said, “Essek, I know you will do what is best for the Den.”

Essek jerked his head in a sharp nod. “I—had not put much thought into the matter. I confess I thought that Verin’s partner was less illusory than he appears to be.”

“You might as well tell Mother to start looking now,” Verin said snidely. His accent had thickened a little. “She’ll have to put in some work to get anyone to agree.”

Jester couldn’t bite back the snarl this time. “You’re such a  _ dick _ ! Lots of people would marry Essek if he wanted to marry them! I’d  _ totally  _ marry Essek.”

There was a silence. Then Essek said, “That is a kind platitude for you to say, Jester,  _ and not what it would sound like in Undercommon. _ ”

Verin, who had momentarily been rendered speechless, recovered. “So she doesn’t know that she just proposed to you?”

“What?” Jester blinked.

“You are not Xhorhassian,” Essek said. “I understand the sentiment as it was meant.”

“That makes a lot more sense,” Verin said.

“I would, though,” Jester said. “It’s not a  _ platitude  _ when you  _ mean it _ , Essek.”

“Now that really is a proposal,” Verin sounded impressed despite himself.

“Jester,” Essek scrubbed a hand across his face. “Thank you. I fully appreciate what you mean. I confess that I did not expect you to need a complex understanding of the social niceties of courtship in the Dynasty, or I would have provided the details earlier.”

“What he’s saying,” Verin cut in, “Is that he knows you didn’t mean to actually propose to him and are just trying to be nice.”

“That is not—“ Essek began.

At the same moment, Jester said, “I’m not  _ just trying to be nice _ .” It was audible over Deirta, who started to say something in Undercommon.

Essek’s hand curled into a fist, and with a gesture, he flung the metal globe from the shelf to the floor. It landed with a horrible crash. Jester, who has seen it falling, still flinched a little; both Deirta and Verin recoiled.

The room was silent for a space of seconds. Then Essek said. “Mother. Your counsel is understood. You may go now. Verin. Get out of my house.”

Verin started to say something, but a look from Deirta silenced him. “Thank you for your prompt attention to this matter, Essek.” Her tone was polite but very distant. She didn’t remind Jester of her own mother at all.

Essek merely nodded. Verin followed her with a half-glance back at Essek. Essek vanished behind them down the stairs. Jester hesitated for long enough that he had gone by the time she stepped out onto the landing, but once she was halfway down the stairs, she could hear voices in Undercommon and then the sound of the door slamming shut.

Jester waited there, but Essek didn’t return. Eventually, she crept back down the stairs. Emerging into the entrance hall, she saw Essek. He was sitting with his back against the door and his face in his hands. He had evidently dropped his floating spell; on the floor with his knees drawn up against his chest, even in his mantle, he looked very small.

“Essek?” she asked softly.

He jerked his head up, startled. Jester thought he might have forgotten she was there.

“Jester,” he said. “My apologies, I—“ Essek visibly gathered himself and made a gesture, resuming his floating spell. Jester wanted to point it out, but it also seemed to give him a greater sense of control, and she figured he needed it right then.

“Oh my gosh, Essek,” she said. “What was  _ that _ ? Is your mom making you get married? Is this like  _ The Princess’s Dilemma?  _ Also, your brother is kind of a dick.”

“I don’t know what that is,” Essek said. “You must have dinner to get back to.”

Jester had entirely forgotten about dinner, although the plate she’d left upstairs was the whole reason she had come. “Oh, that’s okay,” she said. “I think we should definitely talk about this. Don’t you want someone to talk to about this?”

Essek gave her a very lost expression. “I...don’t know.”

“What do you normally do?” Jester said. “When your family is horrible, who do you talk to?”

“No one,” Essek said. “There is—well.” Jester wasn’t sure what he’d been about to say, but she filled in the blank with  _ there is no one I can talk to _ , and that was a sad thought.

“You can talk to me,” she said.

“Thank you, Jester,” he said tiredly. “Have you eaten yet?”

“Oh, I can wait,” she said.

“It is something of a long story,” Essek said. “If you would like to go home and eat—“

“I’m not leaving,” Jester said. 

She hadn’t grown up with many friends, either, but she’d read plenty of books about it, and she’d had the Mighty Nein long enough to know that she’d be a  _ very bad friend  _ if she left now. Essek had composed himself by then, but she still had a very clear mental image of how he’d looked slumped against the door.

“Well,” Essek said. “There is a plate upstairs. Let me get another. Actually, I have something you may like.”

“Really?” Jester said. She followed him into an antechamber that turned out to be a kitchen. He opened a cabinet with a strange magical glyph on it, and a wave of cold flowed into the room. “Whoa!” She darted over and stuck her hand in. “It’s cold in there!”

“It is enchanted,” Essek said. “These are best kept cold.” He handed her a box. She flipped it open to see two rows of four cylinders standing upright. They were pink on top, but she could see they were striped on the way down, alternating layers of pink and white. At the bottom seemed to be a disc of pastry. “I was told they might appeal to someone who enjoyed sweets.”

“You got them for me?” Jester asked. “Essek, that’s so nice!” She set the box on the counter to free her arms so that she could hug him.

As always, he tensed and failed to hug her back for a long moment. Then he awkwardly moved a hand to pat her on the shoulder. “You are very welcome.”

She released him. “We’ll work on the hugging,” she promised. 

He grimaced as he went to a drawer and retrieved a plate and a set of spoons. Jester took the box up again, following him up the stairs into the sitting room. She watched as Essek set the plate down next to the one she had brought before his gaze flicked across the room to the globe on the floor.

“That was childish,” Essek said. “I am sorry you witnessed that.”

He drifted over towards it and picked it up in his hands, turning it about to inspect it for damage.

“They were being super awful,” Jester said. “You should have thrown it at your brother’s head.”

That startled a small laugh from him. “I certainly have fantasized about that.”

She took the plate off the top of the dish Caduceus had sent her with and, with more enthusiasm than skill, dumped about half of it onto Essek’s plate. It came out upside down, with the rice on top. Essek came over as she finished, and she held out both plates.

“I split them, so you pick,” she explained.

Essek hesitated. His hand twitched, and he cast something that magicked the drips of sauce off the side of the bowl before he took it from her.

Jester took the plate herself and took a big forkful. In the time it took her to chew and swallow, Essek still remained silent, standing there with the dish in his hand. His eyes were trained on it, but Jester had the distinct sense that he was really looking through it, lost in his thoughts.

“Soooooo,” Jester began. “Want to talk about it?”

“As you have doubtless gathered,” Essek sighed, “The situation is somewhat complex.”

“It didn’t sound complex to me,” Jester said. She took another forkful.

“Sit, please,” Essek said, gesturing towards the sofa. Jester sat. Essek lowered himself onto the armchair across from her. He rested the dish on his knee. “I—appreciate your defense of me. I must offer, in her defense, that my mother was not being so cruel as you might have supposed.”

“So she’s not making you get married?”

“She is—encouraging it,” Essek said. “I don’t think I’ve spoken much to you of Den politics.”

“No,” Jester said.

“The situation is—complex, but the simplified version of it is that there is something of a conflict between Den Thelyss and Den Omrifar.”

“Omrifar,” Jester repeated. “They’re not—one of the three big ones, though.”

“No,” Essek said. “But they are nobility, and they would like to be one of the main dens. They have, for some time, been in something of a shadow conflict with Den Thelyss. It is not a problem, but…”

“It sounds like a problem,” Jester said doubtfully.

Essek blinked and then let out a little laugh. “I’m sorry. I should know better than to dissemble with you. It seems very unlikely that they will succeed in their aim, but the necessity of fending off their attempts could make things highly inconvenient.”

“Which is why your mom wants you to get married?” Jester wondered. “She’s not trying to get you to marry one of them!”

“No,” Essek said. “No, certainly not. In fact, she would be profoundly upset if I did—nor would Den Omrifar be particularly pleased, as the member of their Den would likely move their alliance to Den Thelyss afterward. No, that is not it. It is just that the conflict necessitates us having allies, and to have allies, you must be able to exchange favors. And my mother has two sons, both of us new souls, and unmarried.”

“The new soul thing,” Jester said. “You told us the first time we met that you were like, special.”

“A prodigy, yes,” Essek said. “In this particular case, though, it simply means that neither my brother nor I have any excuse of a lover from a past life who we wish to wait for. Such things are respected.”

“So you can marry whoever you want,” Jester said.

“Or whoever I don’t want,” Essek said. “It would be quite a favor to ask for, to marry Verin or me, but depending on what they offered in return and knowing that there are two of us, my mother would be hard-pressed to refuse.”

“Would it be better if there were more of you?”

“Less,” Essek said. “For one of us, she might find an excuse to decline. For both, it would be an insult.”

“So one of you has to get married,” Jester said. “Or someone could try and make you marry someone who you don’t necessarily want to get married to.”

“That is about the shape of it, yes,” Essek said. “So while she was—harsh, she is not doing this to be cruel. It is a practical matter.”

“Well,” Jester said. “They couldn’t make you marry someone, right? It would just be rude to say no. She could totally be rude to someone. That’s way less bad than making your son marry someone he doesn’t even  _ like, _ gosh.”

“These things are complicated,” Essek said. “And we have an active enemy. We cannot afford to make more.”

“Why you?” Jester asked. “What about Verin?”

Essek frowned. “Actually, that I confess I do not quite understand.”

“She’s picking on you and not him?”

“No,” Essek hastened. “My mother was equally clear with Verin as with me—and he is no safer than I am from this. I don’t understand why he hasn’t agreed to marry.”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to marry someone he doesn’t love?” Jester said. “Isn’t that why you aren’t getting married?”

“I was under the impression that Verin was seeing someone,” Essek said. “For some time now. It seems like the expedient choice.”

“Oh,” Jester said. “So he could just marry the person he’s in love with, and it’s fine?”

“He was quite adamant in his refusal,” Essek said. “And when you came in, and he said—Verin is, he is not a cruel man.”

“He was being pre-tty mean to you,” Jester said.

“It was, if I am to be honest, unlike him,” Essek said. “I…Verin is a better person than I. But I pressed him on the matter and—well, you heard the result.”

Jester reached out and patted him on the arm. “I meant it,” she said. “Anyone would be lucky to marry you. I’d totally marry you.”

Essek laughed. “Thank you, Jester. You should know that sentence would qualify as a proposal if you said it in Undercommon.”

“Well, I don’t know Undercommon, but I mean it,” Jester said. “I would totally marry you. If you want.”

“You don’t know what you offer,” Essek said. He turned the spoon over in his fingers.

“Yes,” Jester said. “I do.”

“It’s—you understand, this is not a game. I do not say that to insult you; I understand that you are trying to help me, and I am endlessly grateful for it. But this is not something that would be solved quickly and moved on from. There is no way to end a marriage quietly. It would be a terrible embarrassment—worse than never marrying at all—when you end things, even if we were to do so as quietly as possible. And as this whole evening has perhaps made clear to you, this family is—complicated. And I would not wish this—these burdens and enemies and the other sins of mine which you know, I would not place them on you.”

He looked up at her, setting the plate down on the table heavily. He looked composed, as always, but there was a deep exhaustion written under his eyes. He hadn’t taken a bite.

“I totally get it,” Jester said. “When you marry someone, that’s like,  _ til death do us part  _ and everything, I get it.”

“I am—truly, truly—grateful to you,” Essek said. “But I hope you will marry someone you love.”

“Essek,” Jester said. “I do love you.”

For the first time that evening, she’d succeeded in rendering him briefly speechless. He swallowed hard and stared at her. Finally, he said, “What?”

“Maybe not like, big romantic love,” she admitted. “But you’re my friend, and I love you a lot. And I mean, it  _ could  _ be big romantic love, maybe eventually. You are really handsome. I’ve told you that, right? You know I think you’re really handsome. But anyway, I do love you, and I want to see you for the rest of my life, and I could  _ definitely  _ do that if we were married.”

“You would have responsibilities,” Essek said. “Obviously, you do not have my position. You would be free to travel, to follow your own pursuits. But you would have some responsibility here, and you would not—I cannot let you offer this so lightly.”

“Essek,” Jester said fiercely. She gritted her teeth. “I’m not offering  _ lightly _ . I  _ get it _ . Do you want to marry me?”

“I—“ He met her eyes. “You truly understand what you are offering.”

“Yes,” she said. She leaned across the coffee table and grabbed both his hands. “This is how you say it in Common: Do you want to marry me, Essek Thelyss?”

“Jester Lavorre,” Essek said. “I would be a fool to say no.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please find me on Tumblr as [catalists](http://catalists.tumblr.com/) and on Twitter as [@chromecatalists](https://twitter.com/chromecatalists/), I would love to talk about this fic/Jessek/CR in general.
> 
> If you can, please leave a comment! They are a bright spot in a monotonous existence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“It’s going to be like this,” Jester said. When she caught Essek’s blank look, she added, “When we’re married. It’s just going to be, you know, hanging out. Like this. Won’t that be nice?”_
> 
> _Essek was quiet for a long moment. “Yes,” he said. “I think so, yes.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic benefits significantly from SEVERAL talented beta readers, the wonderful [ladyofrosefire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofrosefire), [capitola](https://archiveofourown.org/users/capitola), and [adriiadventures](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adriiadventures). Thank you!

At Essek’s answer, Jester beamed at him and squeezed his hands once before letting go. It took him a moment to resettle them in his lap, and she suspected that he locked his fingers together in a conscious effort to keep them still. “Okay okay okay, so we’re engaged,” Jester said. “Now what? Do I have to give you a ring? Do you give me a ring?”

“Is that traditional engagement jewelry in Nicodranas?” Essek asked.

“Yes,” Jester said. “Also in the empire. I have some rings, I could just give you a ring, I guess?”

“If you would like to,” Essek said. “But it is not traditional here, although it would seem that the exchange of jewelry is a commonality.”

“Do _ I _ give it to you, though? Since I’m the one who proposed?” Jester said. “Also if it’s not a ring is it a bracelet? Is it a necklace?”

“The traditional thing is to exchange a set of jewelry,” Essek said. “It is not only to mark an engagement, but an investment in a future life together. The jewelry I will give to you will be largely from the Den’s collection, with some room for—invention.”

“And I give you jewelry too?” she asked. When he nodded, she continued, “Do you tell me what you want? Do you come pick it out? Do I get to pick mine?”

Essek shook his head. “It is something of a mark of—I should not say love. Respect and knowledge, to be able to make a selection that your intended would choose to wear without requiring their input. Obviously, many marriages are not due to mutual affection, so it is typical to consult someone else from your intended’s Den, a friend or sibling with whom they are close.” He gave her a half smile. “I think I have some sense of your taste, but whichever of your friends you think might best know your wishes, I will engage for this purpose.”

Jester thought about it, using the chance to put another spoonful of rice and bean curd into her mouth. Who was most likely to know what Jester herself would pick? Yasha had a good eye for beautiful things, but not necessarily for fashion. Definitely not Fjord or Caleb. Beau probably wouldn’t know either. Veth was an option, but their tastes sometimes differed a lot. Caduceus—well, he was super observant and they’d already designed outfits together. 

“Caduceus,” she said. “You should definitely ask Caduceus. Do we have to do that right now?”

“No,” he said. “It is typical that it takes some time to speak to your Den, to have things made if you wish. When would a ring be exchanged?”

“When you propose,” Jester said. “You already have it. It’s like—a sign, you know? You show it to people and they’re like ‘oh yes, I can see that you are definitely engaged.’”

“I will find you a ring, if you wish,” Essek offered.

“No, it’s okay,” Jester said, with some reluctance. “It’s probably silly to want a thing to show people.”

But she did want a thing to show people, she realized. There was a rising sense of excitement inside her. She, Jester Lavorre, was  _ engaged _ . She had always thought that would mean a ring on her finger.

“If that is what you want, I can provide,” Essek said. “We spoke of jewelry because you mentioned rings, but we also have a way to mark a betrothal.” He stood up and started to walk across the room to the desk along the far wall. “I believe I have red or silver ribbons. Do you have a preference?”

“What are we going to do with it?”

“It will be knotted around your wrist.”

“Red,” Jester decided.

Essek was searching through the drawers, opening one and shutting it immediately, moving to another and sorting through. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and returned with a spool of red silk ribbon. 

“May I see your wrist?” 

As he spoke, he shed the mantle and the cloak, hanging it carefully over the back of the sofa. He unbuttoned his left cuff and rolled his sleeve up so that his forearm was bare. Jester had seen him take the mantle off only once before, and never with his sleeves rolled up. It made his thin arm, exactly the skin tone and proportion she would have expected, something of an anticlimax.

Jester dropped the spoon and held her own arm out to him. He reached out and turned it over so her hand was facing upwards; it was the first time, she realized with a thrill of excitement, that he had touched her deliberately outside of a teleportation spell. Then he lay his own wrist over hers, palm down, so that the pulse points touched.

“How are you—“ she started to say, and then watched as he gestured with his other hand and two long pieces of red ribbon floated over.

“This would ordinarily be done by someone else,” Essek admitted. “I can accomplish this with dunamancy, however. Unless you would like a witness?”

Jester shook her head. She was beginning to feel as though there were two Esseks—there was the cold, composed Essek with his charm and his floating spell and his mantle, who smiled with his canines visible and was untouchable. And then there was this Essek, awkward and a little shy with his thin wrist warm against her skin, Essek with his feet on the ground, looking at her with expectation but also uncertainty. 

“This is good,” she said.

He started at her wrist, and she felt the gentle brush of the silk over her skin as it wrapped itself around her, careful and deliberate. The second piece went over the top of his own wrist, and she tilted her head to one side to watch the strands carefully arrange themselves into detailed knot work over both of their skin, looping over itself, linking together along her arm. Then the ribbon looped back around and tied itself in place, just below the crease of her elbow.

“There,” he said, after several minutes. “I have—not done that before, I am sorry it took a moment.”

“That was very cool,” she told him, and made to pull her hand back before it occurred to her that their wrists were bound together, the two ribbons braided together. “Does it, um—“

“Turn your arm counter-clockwise,” he instructed.

She did, and he did the opposite. Where the ribbons appeared to be linked together, a series of loops that were merely tucked into each other disconnected and freed them. Jester turned her arm back over to examine it. It was very pretty. It looped around her arm in two places like a bracer, once at her wrist and once midway up her arm, and the knot work in between stood out beautifully against her blue skin.

“How did you know how to do that?” Jester asked.

“The principal is very similar to braiding,” Essek said. “I did that quite often as practice when I was younger.”

“You know how to braid hair?” Jester wanted to know. “Yours is so short!”

“Not when I was a child,” Essek said. “As you may have guessed, short hair is not the common fashion.”

Jester had thought that, actually; almost everyone in the Dynasty wore their hair long, often braided. Essek’s short hair stood out. “Why is yours short?”

“A personal choice,” Essek said, and then he said, “Ah, no. A statement.”

“What kind of statement?” Jester was curious. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“I ought to tell you—but, Jester, it is not too late for you to back out. If you wish more time to think, I will cut that ribbon from your arm. Perhaps—if after a week—“

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Jester said sharply. “Oh my gosh, Essek, do you think I’m stupid?”

“No,” Essek said. “I do not. I think I—I do not mean to say that I have lied to you. I have lied to you, but not about this. There are—this is  _ very  _ complicated. There are many things you do not know.”

“But you can tell me about them,” Jester said. “Right?”

“I can,” Essek said, and then with more conviction as he looked at her, “I can.”

“Are they bad things?” Jester wanted to know. She picked up her plate again and got to work polishing off the food. “This is really good, Essek, you should try it,” she nudged him again.

Distractedly, he picked the plate up at her gesture but didn’t move to eat. “They are complicated things. There is some good to them, and some bad. All life is complicated, and to live as I do—I suppose it is more complicated than most. You are not very familiar with the culture of the Dynasty, which is my fault. I did not make it a priority to teach it to you.”

“Were you, like, supposed to? Was that your job?”

“It was my job to keep an eye on you,” Essek said. “At first it was fairly simple—you were potentially hostile and to be watched for any signs you might turn on us. When it became clear, as it did, that you would not, I was to make sure that there was minimal disruption and that you might be able to render aid, as you were able, in the service of the Dynasty. Perhaps I should have made cultural education a priority then, but…”

“But you decided to teach Caleb magic instead?” Jester wondered aloud. She scraped her spoon along the bowl to get up the last grains of rice.

Essek let out a huff of breath and made an abortive gesture towards his face; Jester thought he might have been about to cover it with his hand. “You know that I was  _ not  _ meant to do that. I was not—bluffing, as you might say, when I told Caleb to keep that close to his chest.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not like, telling lots of people, I promise,” Jester said. “Why did you do it?”

“Because I liked him,” Essek said. He set the plate down again, not looking at it. “Do you know how rare it is, to know someone who is a peer to me in the arcane arts, and does not look upon me as a child? I told you that I was a prodigy when we met not to brag, but in defense. I forget that you do not come from the Dynasty. To be a young elf, and a new soul besides—what I did, I am not proud of it, you know I am not. But it was not—no, I will not make excuses to you.”

“You were really lonely,” Jester said. “Right?”

Essek paused for a moment. “No,” he said. “I do not think I was.”

“It’s okay,” Jester said. “When I was—so, my mom, she’s really great. She’s not like your mom, she loves me like, so much. But um. When I was a kid, I was sort of a little bit of a secret? And so I had her, and the Traveler, and not really any other friends? So I get it. If you were lonely.” She paused, looking down at her empty plate. “I was definitely lonely.”

“I am sorry,” Essek said. “I hope that you—it seems as though you have many friends now.”

Jester nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not lonely anymore. And I hope you’re not lonely now, either.”

Essek hesitated. “If I am to be blunt…”

Jester interrupted, “Essek, you need to just tell me things. Didn’t you say that was the problem? If you don’t tell me things I’m not going to know them.”

He cracked a smile. “No, that is very true. Very well. Then I will say that I am perhaps more lonely now that I have been in my memory.”

Jester couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her. “Essek! You should have—how are you  _ more  _ lonely? You have friends now, we’re your friends, I know we like, call you all the time, but also  _ you  _ can call  _ us _ ! You can tell us if you want to hang out.”

She reached across the table again and grabbed his hand. Moving her arm shifted the ribbon against her skin, and she was reminded again that they were  _ engaged.  _ She squeezed his hand. He took a moment and then returned it, although the gesture was a little jerky, as though he was imitating her individual movements. It reminded her a little bit of how he reacted to being hugged.

“It is not your fault,” he assured her. “It is only that I do not think—I have been kept company by my work for many years. It did not occur to me before meeting you that it was not enough.”

“Does your mom not hug you?” Jester asked, abruptly.

“…no,” Essek said, after a pause. “We are not—we do not have that sort of relationship.”

“Your mom should hug you, Essek,” Jester said. 

It was true that she had a hard time picturing the beautiful cold woman who had stood in this room half an hour before hugging anyone, but it was still sad to think about. Jester couldn’t imagine what it would have been like growing up if she hadn’t even had her mother.

He smiled. “I do not think either of us are the hugging sort. It is alright.”

“Do you not like hugs?” Jester said. “You don’t, like.  _ Have  _ to hug me if you super hate it.”

“I do not hate it,” he said.

“If you want me to stop, you can tell me,” she insisted.

“I will tell you if I want you to stop,” he said.

She narrowed her eyes. “So you do like it?”

“I do not want you to stop,” he confirmed.

“So then you  _ do  _ like hugs,” Jester pressed. “It’s okay! I know you’re like—you keep saying that you and your mom are cool but it doesn’t  _ sound  _ like you’re cool since she was going to make you marry someone when you didn’t want to and also she  _ never hugged you _ , like what is up with that?”

Essek blinked at her, and she started to wonder if she might have come on too strong until he said, “I do not think my deficiencies as a person can be blamed on not being hugged as a child, Jester.”

“You don’t have—okay, well, maybe,” she said, thinking about how blasé Essek had been at the destruction caused by the war. “Anyway, you can take responsibility for your own flaws while also being like, hey, my mom is kind of a bag of dicks, you know?”

Essek’s laugh was tired, but he did laugh. “I have to ask that you do not say that to her face.” He sobered quickly. “Deirta Thelyss is—hmm. She is a good leader of Den Thelyss, in that she thinks of the Den first, and herself second. This is why it was a great disappointment to her that I was a new soul. To be a new soul who has some natural ability, and has brought some prestige to the Den, this has redeemed me in her eyes. But she also must be very careful. She is, after all, responsible.”

“For the Den?”

“Ah, yes,” Essek said. “But also for me. I am a new soul. I am her child. There is—it has been many centuries since she had to raise a child who was not already their own person. I do not think she remembered how. When the memories of a past life did not come, she still had children, and she was only prepared to treat me as an adult.”

“Oh,” Jester said. “That makes sense, I guess. But it’s still pretty shitty.”

“My mother and I have reached an equilibrium. For my intelligence, and my success, I have been given considerable freedom. In return, I must not use that freedom to embarrass her or the Den. There is—you might call it a mutual respect between us. She may ask things of me that I do not like, or that hurt me. But she does not do it  _ to  _ hurt me. She is not cruel for its own sake.”

“I guess that makes her a pretty good Den leader,” Jester said.

“Yes,” Essek agreed. “It is how Den Thelyss has achieved and maintained its position for so long, and why would-be usurpers such as Den Omrifar have not yet succeeded.”

“But she doesn’t sound like a very good mom,” Jester concluded.

“Perhaps not,” Essek said. “But I am hardly in a position to judge.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet my mom,” Jester said. “I guess you sort of did. You saw her at the party in Nicodranas!”

“The Ruby of the Sea,” Essek said. “I remember. I was, ah. A bit preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh yeah, you were totally freaking out,” Jester said sagely. “And then Veth poisoned you.”

“Yes,” Essek said. “I do remember that.”

“So you’ll get to meet her for real,” Jester said. “And she’ll  _ definitely  _ hug you.”

Essek looked less enthusiastic than Jester had hoped about this prospect—rather, he paled considerably. “I confess I had not put much thought into meeting your mother. Or your…forgive me, I don’t know if you have mentioned your father to me.”

“Oh, yeah!” Jester said. “My father is The Gentleman, he’s like, a mob boss. He lives in Zadash so we probably can’t go visit him though. So I guess you will meet him at the wedding.”

“A mob boss,” Essek repeated. “I wish this explained something, but I confess I am more confused.”

“I only met him super recently,” Jester assured him. “He left my mom before I was born but they are like,  _ totally  _ still in love. Oh my gosh, Essek, we have to invite them both to the wedding and then they can meet again and remember that they’re still in love!”

The color had not returned to Essek’s face, but he replied, slowly, “We can certainly attempt to arrange their attendance.”

“Anyway, my mom will definitely hug you. If you want her to,” Jester amended. “But you said you liked it when I hugged you, so…”

“I do,” Essek said. “I do not know if I would like it from someone else.”

Jester gasped, and then gave her best teasing grin. “Essek, are you saying I’m special? Am I special?”

“You are very special,” Essek said.

“Well, I’ll tell my mom not to hug you if you don’t want her to hug you,” Jester said. “Just let me know, okay?”

“I will.” 

“Good. Eat your food,” Jester instructed, picking up the spoon and handing it to him. “Caduceus will be upset if I tell him you didn’t eat it.”

Essek obediently took a forkful. Satisfied, Jester reached for the box of desserts. She tried to pick one up, but her finger sunk into whatever the pink stuff was. She sucked it off her finger. It tasted sweet, with an undercurrent of tartness--she might have said it was strawberry-flavored except for the unexpected tang that marked it as something unfamiliar.

“That’s really good!”

“Ah,” Essek said, glancing up and seeing her dilemma. “You might have better luck picking it up from the bottom. The layers are a variety of custard.”

“Okay!” Jester managed to get it out of the box and onto her mostly-clean plate at the second try. It lurched sideways but she caught it with the back of the spoon and held it upright. It wobbled, but remained in place.

“Please thank Caduceus for me,” Essek said. “This is very good.”

“I’ll tell him,” Jester said, pleased to see that he was finally eating.

She got to work on the dessert. Essek was right—she did like it. It was way better than the dry cookies he’d offered them before. Besides the pink custard of sweet-tart berry whose flavor she didn’t recognize, the white stripes were a warm vanilla flavor; the pastry was flaky and buttery. 

“Oh my gosh, Essek,” Jester exclaimed around a mouthful, “This is much better than those cookies.”

“I am glad it is to your liking,” he said.

She got about halfway through the cake before the thought occurred to her. “Was I supposed to ask your mom if it was okay to marry you?” Jester wondered.

“What?” Essek blinked at her, confused.

“You know, you ask their parents if it’s okay to marry them, you know?”

“No,” said Essek. “That is. Not a custom here.” He set his plate down; Jester was pleased to see it was mostly empty.

“So your mom is just going to be like, cool, do whatever you want?” Jester said. “That’s pretty cool, actually.”

“Ah, no,” Essek said. “I will speak to her about our engagement, as the head of Den Thelyss. She will—well.” He smiled. “I cannot say she will be fully pleased, but I do not expect an objection. Therefore we will have the support of the Den in this union. But you would not bring this matter to her, nor would she be speaking in her capacity as my birth mother.”

“Oh,” Jester said. “So it’s a Den politics thing again.”

“Most things are,” Essek said matter-of-factly. “Am I meant to, ah—ask permission, of your family?”

“Well,” Jester said. “I proposed to you, so, no.”

“I suppose it is a moot point,” Essek said. “As I will need to gain their approval regardless.”

“My mom will like you,” Jester promised quickly. The last bits of the pastry were proving crumbly and difficult to get up with the spoon, so she just picked up chunks with her fingers and put them in her mouth.

“I did not mean your mother,” Essek said.

“Oh!” Jester said. She stuck her thumb in her mouth to suck the last smear of berry custard off it. “Oh, yeah.”

“With that in mind,” Essek said, his voice a little strained, “Perhaps your friends are wondering where you are?”

“Oh yeah, I should probably check in, huh.”

“It would not hurt either of us, I think, to have a night to rest and come back to this in the morning,” Essek said. “When is convenient for you?”

“You could come for dinner tomorrow,” Jester suggested. “Or come like, a little bit before dinner and we can talk about it and then we can talk about it with everyone.”

“Very well. I will make myself available.”

“Hang on,” Jester said, and cast Sending to Fjord. “Hi, it’s Jester, everything’s good, I’m just hanging out with Essek so don’t worry about me! I’ll be home in a little while.” She paused. “You pooping?”

There was a long pause during which Jester guessed Fjord was busy being unnerved, and then he said “Uhh—yes. Hi Jester. Thank you for the update?” Then he said, “No, she just said they were hanging out. And asked if I was pooping. No—“

“They know I’m fine,” Jester said. “It hasn’t been  _ that  _ long.”

“No,” Essek agreed, turning to look at the clock on the mantle. “Still, I—” he broke off.

“What is it?”

Essek smiled, but she could tell that it was papering over some amount of surprise—good or bad, she couldn’t tell. “It has been more than an hour, in fact.”

“Oh, what?” Jester squinted at the clock, but she didn’t remember what time she’d come, and the eternal twilight of the city made actually counting the hours low on her list of priorities. “Wow. I guess we were just having so much fun that we didn’t notice!”

“I suppose so,” Essek said. He still seemed disconcerted. “Forgive me, I am accustomed to—time often passes quickly while I am engaged in research, but…” he shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“It’s going to be like this,” Jester said. When she caught Essek’s blank look, she added, “When we’re married. It’s just going to be, you know, hanging out. Like this. Won’t that be nice?”

Essek was quiet for a long moment. “Yes,” he said. “I think so, yes.”

“Good,” Jester said. “That’s all that marriage is, really. You hang out with someone e _ very day, forever.  _ So you’ve got to really, really like them. So it’s a good thing we’re super good friends! Because we are.” She poked him with her tail teasingly. “Right?”

“Jester,” Essek said, more seriously than she’d thought her question demanded. “You are my dearest friend in the world.”

“Really?” Jester felt a sudden rush of warmth. “More than Caleb?”

“Well, I am not marrying Caleb,” Essek said practically. “I think I have a different sort of friendship with Caleb. It does not…I care for you very much.”

“That’s okay,” Jester said, sensing his discomfort at the question. “You can care a lot about me  _ and  _ Caleb. You know you can love more than one person, right? You can love a lot of people.”

“I am beginning to discover that, yes,” Essek said.

“I love s _ o  _ many people,” Jester assured him. “Not all the same amount, obviously, but it’s still love. Probably at  _ least  _ forty people. Maybe a hundred.”

“I am not sure what it feels like,” Essek admitted. He was avoiding her gaze again, so it was hard to read him. “I admire your ability to love so freely.”

“You don’t meet people and be like, gosh, you’re so great, I want good things to happen to you?” Jester wondered.

“Not often,” Essek said. “No.”

“How many people do you think you love?” Jester asked. “You don’t have to love them the way you love  _ me _ , obviously. Or Caleb.”

“I don’t know,” Essek said. “I am not entirely sure...”

“You can guess,” Jester said encouragingly. “It’s okay to be wrong!”

The startled look he gave her was fairly solid evidence that no one had ever told Essek Thelyss  _ it’s okay to be wrong  _ before. “Perhaps,” he said, after an even longer pause, “Seven.”

\---

Essek cleaned the plate and dish with a spell before he returned it to her, repeating his request that she thank Caduceus. He gave her the box of pastries, too, and she carried it back with the dishes stacked on top of it while he walked her to the gate—walked, because at some point he’d dropped the floating spell. Jester hadn’t noticed when he’d done it.

“Thank you for dinner,” he said, formally.

“Thank you for dessert!” she hefted the box, yelping a little when it made the dishes shift. “Oh my gosh, my arms are too full to hug you, I should have hugged you inside.”

“That is alright,” he said. “I will see you soon.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. She looked at his left arm, but she couldn’t see the ribbons—he’d put his cloak back on over it. “Do I wear this forever?” she asked, turning to show him she meant the ribbon.

“No,” Essek said. “But you—well, it is all superstition and formality, you may do as you like.”

“What am I supposed to do?” she prompted.

“Wear it until it falls off,” he said. “You are not meant to cut it or untie it yourself.”

“Oh, that’s so romantic,” Jester said. “I will definitely leave it until it falls off then!”

“Unless you change your mind,” Essek said. “In which case I would ask that you please inform me, and you can remove it in whatever way you would like.”

“I won’t change my mind,” Jester insisted. She leaned forward, forcing Essek to meet her eyes.

“Nevertheless,” Essek said. He only held her gaze for a moment before looking away. “If you should, I would—it is important to me that our friendship endure, more important than this.”

Like a torch catching alight, Jester abruptly understood; Essek wasn’t doubting her, but rather hedging his bets to make sure that he wouldn’t lose her entirely. That had happened in  _ The Princess’s Dilemma _ too—when her love interest had become convinced that she was only marrying him because it was her duty, he had tried to give her an out, which she had interpreted as him rejecting her. It had been a very big mess, although of course they had worked it all out in the end and had a big wedding.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be friends forever,” Jester said. “Also, I have a book that you should definitely, definitely read.”

“Alright,” Essek said, after a pause in which he clearly didn’t understand the leap in the conversation. “I will look forward to your recommendation.”

She nodded. Then she said, “You know, you could walk me home, if you wanted.”

“Is this—a usual thing, for courting?” he asked. “In Nicodranas?”

She nodded. “Especially if it’s a guy and a girl,” she said. “Although I guess it’s kind of silly for you to walk me from your house to mine, and then walk back to yours.”

“I am happy to do so,” Essek said. “If you would like it.”

Jester thought about it. “Yes,” she decided. “I would.”

“Very well,” he said. He stepped out on the street and pulled the gate shut with a clang, falling into step beside her. He had activated the floating spell again; Jester was going to have to keep an eye out for the gesture that meant he was doing it, because she’d watched him switch back and forth several times and often had no indication until he was suddenly off the ground or back on it. Floating, he was of a height with her; on his own feet, he was a few inches shorter.

“It’s so pretty here,” Jester said, as they walked through the city. 

She was making more of an effort than usual to soak in the atmosphere. The architecture of Rosohna was unique, a gleaming monument to reinvention built atop an ancient ruin, even before you got to the perpetual dusk and the gleaming arcane fire of the green-bright street lamps.

“It is a beautiful city,” Essek agreed.

“You’re from here, right?”

“That is correct.”

“It’s not weird, it being night all the time?”

He shook his head. “Do you find it upsetting? I am told this is not an uncommon reaction, to creatures more accustomed to a regular light.”

“No,” Jester said slowly. “No, it’s really pretty. It just feels kind of weird. Like you’re dreaming a lot, you know?”

He shook his head. “I am afraid I do not.”

“Like, my mind is kind of like,  _ weird, I don’t know when I’m supposed to be awake anymore _ ,” she said. “So it’s kind of—like you’re dreaming.”

“That is an interesting way to put it,” Essek said. “You are describing a sense of unreality.”

“Maybe a little?” Jester said. “Not in a bad way,” she added, because she saw that he was frowning.

“It sounds disconcerting,” he admitted. “But then, drow do not dream, so I confess I may be missing something.”

“ _ What?” _ Jester spun around, clutching the box to her chest. “You don’t dream? Like, at all ever?”

He shook his head. “We do not sleep often, either,” he said. “Elves tend to trance rather than sleep. It is more efficient—part of your adjustment to the city may be that we are not on your typical, pardon the phrasing, day-night cycle.”

She giggled and was rewarded with a hint of a smirk. “So what is trancing like? How long do you do it?”

“About four hours will leave one fully rested, I believe in comparison to the eight typical for your kind?” At her nod, he continued, “As for what it is like—it is a meditative state. Often the eyes are closed, but they might be open. You retain awareness of what is around you. It is like—how to put it. Stepping into a cloud of fog. You retain sound, and shape. With focus you can observe.”

“That’s so weird,” Jester said. “So you don’t like,  _ ever _ sleep?”

“Very rarely,” Essek said. “I answer for myself, personally—we can sleep, and we might achieve the same degree of rest with the same amount of time as you would. But it is not as efficient, so I do not often indulge.”

“But it’s nice,” Jester said. “Oh my gosh, this explains so much about why you are so stressed out all the time!”

Essek laughed sharply. “I believe I am well aware why I am ‘so stressed out,’ and making myself vulnerable for eight hours at a time would do very little for it.”

“I just meant that you never get to just turn your brain off for eight hours,” Jester said. “You’re thinking  _ all the time _ . That would stress anybody out.”

“I had not thought of it like that,” Essek said. “I do not—the idea of thought  _ stopping  _ is worse. My mind is myself. Where else should it go?”

“Isn’t your soul yourself?” Jester said. “That’s what goes into the beacon when you die, right?”

“So it is said,” Essek said. “But I cannot imagine recognizing that part of myself with another mind, can you?”

Jester thought about that for a long moment, as they rounded the block past the house with the red door. “I don’t know,” she said. Essek was very much a creature of intellect. It was hard to imagine an Essek who wasn’t deliberate, who wasn’t clever, who didn’t reach for magic like an extension of his own body. “Maybe it’s the same thing, though? Because a soul is like, who you are, but also that changes based on what happens to you and what you think about, you know? So maybe what you think about makes your soul different.”

“So you believe there is no immutable part of the self?” Essek asked. “There is no part of you that may not be changed, given time and circumstance?”

“I guess not,” Jester said. “But probably some parts of you are harder to change than others, you know? Like,” she searched for an example. “Caduceus is like, a super good person, you know? He cares about people and making the world better, he cares about it so much. I bet it would be really, really hard to make him  _ not  _ a good person.”

“But it is possible,” Essek said.

“Well, yeah,” Jester said. “I guess so.”

“And possible, too,” Essek said. “That an evil person, who cared for no one, could be changed too?”

Jester stumbled. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I  _ know  _ that’s possible.”

“And how is that?” Essek asked. His voice was casual. Jester could have believed he was asking her about the weather.

“Because I’ve seen it,” she said. 

She shifted the box so she could reach out and squeeze his arm. It was the least he’d ever tensed under her touch, and she silently cheered the progress. They had come up upon the Xhorhouse by then, the tree towering above the street.

“You could come in, if you want,” Jester offered.

“I think it might be better if you had this conversation privately,” Essek said. “I would like them to feel free to say what they want about me.”

Jester’s eyes widened. “I wouldn’t let them say anything bad about you,” she insisted.

“Nevertheless,” Essek said. “Perhaps better that you speak with them before I come to dinner tomorrow.”

“Good idea,” she said. Essek was right—they were all stupidly overprotective of her, and if Essek had tried to talk her out of this, the rest of the Mighty Nein definitely would. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“I will see you tomorrow,” he agreed.

“You know what else is traditional?” Jester blurted, before she lost her nerve.

“What is that?” Essek asked.

“You could give me a goodnight kiss,” she said. “If you wanted. No pressure.”

He froze for a moment. “That would be very forward,” he said. But he paused for a moment, and then he reached out and took her hand, lifted it, and pressed a brief kiss to her knuckles. “Goodnight, Jester.”

It was her turn to freeze momentarily as he released her and turned to go. “Goodnight!” she called to his retreating form, grin spreading uncontrollably across her face.

Still grinning, she headed up the walk to tell the rest of the Mighty Nein.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm [catalists](http://catalists.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr and [@chromecatalists](https://twitter.com/chromecatalists/) on Twitter--come say hi!
> 
> Or, come join the [Haven Discord](https://discord.gg/mfDbzMuK), where I spend a lot of time yelling about Essek Thelyss.
> 
> If you can, please leave a comment! They mean a lot.


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